Murder Most Wholesome

by Staci McLaughlin

  Jan looked at me like I’d told her deep-fried Twinkies could cure heart disease. “That’s absurd. Birch was the nicest man I’ve ever known. He’s been a regular at my shop since he moved back to the commune. I’d gotten the feeling that the last few weeks were rough on him. When I saw how happy he was that day, I wanted to help him.”

  “What’s been going on the last few weeks?” I asked, wondering if it was related to the tax problems Jason told me about.

  “He never said, which was unlike him. He was usually so open, but I know he’s been taking on more responsibility at the commune. Maybe there’s a problem there.” She tapped one of the lasagna boxes. “Now that I remember, Ryan was in here that day as well, and those two wouldn’t even acknowledge one another. Avoided each other like the plague, which is hard to do in a store this small.”

  Now that was interesting. Why would the men be ignoring each other? Like Millie, was Birch opposed to introducing technology to the commune? Or was Ryan to blame for the missing tax payments? Then again, there could be other problems in Birch’s life I knew nothing about.

  Another thought struck me. “Did Ryan overhear you two talking about Zennia?”

  “Possibly. Like I said, this place isn’t that big.”

  Which meant he could have overheard Jan giving out Zennia’s address. Had Birch mentioned he’d be dropping by in the morning? “What about Frank? Did he come in with Birch?”

  “Sure. He usually does.”

  “Did he talk to Ryan?” I was wondering how far the hostility toward Ryan extended.

  Jan shook her head. “Well, no, but Frank’s not much of a talker on his best day.”

  The boxes of lasagna were starting to sweat from being out of the freezer. I swiped my card and finished paying for the groceries, while Jan bagged everything. She handed me the bag.

  “If you see Zennia before I do, please tell her she’s in my thoughts.”

  “Absolutely. Thanks for your help with lunch.”

  I carried the grocery bag to my car. Once inside, I checked the clock and cursed. Where had the time gone? I backed out of the space and sped down the road, my foot never easing off the gas pedal.

  After what felt like hours but was only minutes, I reached the farm, parked in the closest space, and trotted toward the lobby with my groceries. As I pulled open the front door, one of the couples from breakfast came out, and the man bumped into me, causing me to drop the bag.

  “Oops, sorry about that,” he said and picked it up.

  I saw him look down at the contents, and my stomach seized as I imagined him discovering the frozen boxes. Thank goodness the dinner rolls lay on top and covered them.

  “Excuse me.” I grabbed the bag and hurried inside. Gordon frowned at me as I scuttled past the check-in counter, but I didn’t slow down. When I reached the kitchen, I plunked the bag on the table, unpacked the contents, and grabbed an empty bowl. I rushed out the door to collect the makings of a salad.

  By the time I’d plucked leaves from the lettuce plant, picked a few stalks of green onions, and managed to dredge up a couple of early season cucumbers that were probably too inedible to eat, I could see the guests drifting into the dining room through the French doors. Feeling like an organic salad inspector was breathing down my neck, I ran back into the house to throw together the salads, zap the lasagna in the microwave, and heat up the rolls.

  It was déjà vu from breakfast as I carried the first salad plates into the dining room and saw the same diners waiting in hungry expectation. I shuttled back and forth until everyone was served and then cleaned up the kitchen while they ate. By the time I reentered the dining room, only one couple remained.

  “Everything okay with lunch?” I asked.

  “Great,” the man said. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Yes,” the woman agreed. “Delicious. Reminds me of my favorite frozen entrée that I buy.”

  I almost dropped the plate I was holding, but managed to recover before it could slip from my grip. “You don’t say.” I hurried from the room before she could ask for the recipe. God help me if she wandered into the kitchen and saw the empty boxes.

  By the time I’d finished scrubbing the dishes and loaded the washing machine with the linens, the afternoon was half over. Exhausted, I sank into the office chair and booted up the computer so I could concentrate on my regular marketing duties. Fortunately, my workload had been light lately, and I only needed to deal with administrative tasks and the Web site’s blog.

  I soon became absorbed in work as I typed away at the keyboard. Esther entered the office while I was finishing the next day’s blog post.

  “Mercy me, are you still here?”

  I checked the computer. Criminy, after six already? I’d been at the farm for almost twelve hours. No wonder my stomach was growling.

  “I’m on my way out now,” I said. I saved my work and shut down the computer.

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you helping me like this while Zennia is out,” Esther said. “Especially with me spending most of the day at the hospital.”

  “If anything, it’s expanding my cooking skills.” Or my microwaving skills, I thought.

  After a quick good-bye to Esther and a nod to Gordon in the lobby, I made my way out to the car. Traffic on the highway was sparse, and I was soon pulling into the apartment complex parking lot. Ashlee’s salsa red Camaro occupied the space next to mine, but I could hear the engine ticking when I walked past, which meant she hadn’t been home long. I climbed the stairs to the apartment and let myself in.

  I stopped inside the door and tried to figure out what was different from the usual state of our living room. Then it hit me. The floor was clean. Ashlee was home, but her usual trail of shoes, purse, jacket, and keys was nowhere to be found. Either aliens had invaded her body, or Ashlee was expecting company, most likely male company.

  As I wondered who the lucky fellow was, Ashlee limped out of her room. She wore a bathrobe cinched at the waist, and a towel was wrapped around her head. In between each toe, she’d inserted a little piece of cardboard, a sure sign that she’d recently painted her nails and didn’t want the polish to smear before it could dry. “Hey, sis, my date is going to be here any minute. Can you answer the door?”

  “Is this the guy who made you dinner last week?”

  “No, he liked his dog way too much. Let him sit at the dinner table and lap beer out of a bowl. Talk about gross. This new guy came into the vet office this afternoon with a cat he rescued from the side of the highway. We totally hit it off. We’re going to double with Brittany and a guy I set her up with after he brought his turtle into the office.”

  Brittany was one of Ashlee’s closest friends and an almost constant giggler. I hoped her date liked that character trait. “Are you sure your boss isn’t running a dating service for his employees rather than tending to sick animals?”

  Ashlee pulled the sash on her robe tighter. “You know, that gives me an idea. Instead of matching up our clients, we could totally play matchmaker for the animals we treat. A Lhasa apso came in today that would be perfect for this shih tzu we neutered the other day.”

  I shook my head. The nail polish fumes must be getting to her brain. “How about you get ready for your date?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Okay, but don’t come whining to me when one of the networks makes a reality show out of that idea. I’ll be the first to say, ‘I told you so.’” She went back to her room and shut the door.

  I went into the kitchen to scrounge up dinner. One glance in the fridge showed that Ashlee had finished the leftover Chinese food and the remainder of the pizza. I pulled out a pack of hot dogs and was searching the pantry for the buns when I heard a knock.

  I left the hot dogs on the counter and went to answer the door. A twenty-something guy with a slight build stood before me. His short brown hair was stiff with gel, and his wire-rimmed glasses reflected the light from the cell phone he held in his hand. He had a vaguely familiar qual
ity about him, like maybe I’d seen him around town.

  The guy looked at his phone, then back at me. “I was told Ashlee lives here,” he said uncertainly.

  “Come on in,” I said, stepping aside. “She’s getting ready. I’m her sister, Dana.”

  “So this is the right apartment,” he said as he walked past me. “I thought she’d given me a bogus address.” From the way he said it, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

  He surveyed the room, not bothering to hide his curiosity, before turning back to me. “I’m Ryan.”

  The moment he said his name, I recognized him, even without the baseball cap. This was the guy who was fighting with Millie at the commune. This was the guy with the big ideas for bringing everyone into the twenty-first century. This was the guy who might have overheard Jan give Zennia’s address to Birch.

  And this might be the guy who’d killed him.

  Chapter 14

  I gestured to the couch. “Have a seat,” I told Ryan. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “A soda, if you’ve got it.”

  I guess he wasn’t into wholesome living as much as others at the commune probably were. I went into the kitchen, found a clean glass in the cupboard, and dropped in ice. After grabbing a soda from the refrigerator, I brought everything to the coffee table. “I’ll let Ashlee know you’re here.”

  He mumbled a thanks, and I went to rap on Ashlee’s door, making sure to count to three so she’d have time to throw on clothes if she wasn’t decent. I stuck my head in.

  Ashlee stood before her closet, looking much like the last time I’d seen her, only without the cardboard partitions between her toes.

  “Your date’s here.”

  She whirled around. “Already? Crap.”

  “I thought you were expecting him.”

  “None of the guys I go out with ever show up on time.” She grabbed an armful of clothes out of the closet, threw everything on the bed, and started rifling through them.

  “Tell you what. I can stall him for you.” While she got herself dolled up, I could ask him about the living conditions at the commune, see if he knew how precarious the financial situation was.

  She glanced up. “That’d be awesome. You can talk to him about all that organic stuff. I think he likes that.”

  “Yeah, sure, that’s what I’ll do.” Right after I was done asking my questions.

  I pulled the door shut and returned to the living room, where Ryan waited on the couch. He was swinging his knee back and forth as if keeping time to a song in his head. He held his phone in one hand and was thumbing through the contents on the screen.

  “She’ll be right out,” I said, although considering she was still picking out her clothes, I knew she’d be a while.

  “No rush. I got all night.”

  At least he had all night. I needed to plan tomorrow’s menu before I could even think about going to bed. I sat in the stiff wing chair I’d bought at the thrift shop a while back and leaned forward. “Didn’t I see you at the commune yesterday?”

  His leg stopped swinging, and he looked up from his phone with what I’d swear was a guilty expression on his face. “You were at the commune?”

  “Visiting with Zennia.”

  “Don’t know her.”

  “She knew Birch.”

  At this, he fumbled with his phone, almost dropping it in his lap, and set it on the coffee table. “Sucks what happened to him. I still can’t believe it.”

  From the other room, I heard Ashlee’s hair dryer kick on. “Were you two good friends?” I asked.

  “Not exactly friends, but I respected his wisdom. Closest thing I’ve had to a mentor.”

  “Is he the one who introduced you to the commune?”

  Ryan laced his hands behind his head and resumed his leg swinging, back to Mr. Casual. “No, I found it on my own. I was involved in a couple of startups back in the city, working eighteen-hour days and most weekends. I even slept under my desk a couple of times when a deadline was looming. After a few years of that, I needed downtime to get my head on straight. I started looking for a quiet place up in this area and stumbled on Evergreen by accident. Birch showed up a couple months later.”

  Listening to Ryan talk about his hectic work schedule reminded me of how much I appreciated my slower-paced life at the farm, even when it involved cooking for the guests. “How long are you planning to stay at Evergreen? A commune in the woods must seem pretty quiet compared to San Francisco and its nightlife.”

  Ryan shook his head. “There was never time to enjoy the nightlife. I was lucky if I managed to sleep four hours a night. I like it here. The people need me. I can make that commune money.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got big plans,” I said. “What did Birch think?”

  The hair dryer shut off, and Ryan reached for his phone to look at the screen. “What’s keeping Ashlee?” So much for Ryan having all night to wait.

  “I’m sure she’ll be out in a few minutes.”

  He slurped his soda and let his gaze drift down to his phone again.

  “How about the other members of the commune?” I pressed. “Are they excited about your ideas?”

  Ryan was still studying his phone. “I need to make a call.”

  I didn’t know if he was telling the truth or trying to escape this conversation. Either way, he was on his feet and heading for the door.

  “What about Ashlee?” I asked.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said over his shoulder and stepped outside.

  Well, that was a fast exit.

  Not knowing how long he’d be gone, I went over to the kitchen counter and picked up one of the cookbooks I’d borrowed from Mom. I carried it to the kitchen table, sat down, and flipped it open.

  I was still browsing the appetizer section when Ashlee’s door opened. She pranced out, with her head held high and her boobs perky. Clearly she was putting on a show. When she noticed the empty couch and no sign of Ryan, her shoulders drooped.

  “God, Dana, what did you do? Scare him off?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  “Then what happened to my date?”

  I gestured toward the front door. “He stepped out to make a phone call.”

  “I thought you were going to keep him entertained.” She stalked toward the door. “He’d better still be out there,” she warned.

  She placed her hand on the door just as it swung inward. Her scowl instantly switched to a smile. “Hi, Ryan. I’m ready to go now.” Ashlee batted her eyelashes. I rolled my eyes.

  Ryan moved to the side so Ashlee could step out and join him. At that moment, it occurred to me that my sister was about to go on a date with a possible murder suspect.

  My heart skipped a beat. “Wait! Where are you guys going?” I called, but I was talking to the closed door.

  I debated whether I should run after them. Was Ashlee actually in danger? Even if Ryan killed Birch, and I had no reason to think he did, it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment killing. I mean, sure, Ashlee could be annoying, but not enough for anyone to murder her. Right?

  I went back into the kitchen and boiled the hot dog I’d set aside when Ryan arrived, trying to keep thoughts of Ashlee and Ryan out of my mind. Once I’d finished eating, I sat back down at the table and spent the evening studying recipes, looking for the ones that required the least amount of time and ingredients. All the while I kept one ear open for the sound of Ashlee tromping up the stairs.

  After I’d dog-eared several pages for possible lunch items, I slammed the cookbook shut. First thing in the morning, I’d pick one of the recipes I’d marked and swing by the store on my way to work.

  I stood up and stretched, my neck muscles feeling tight after hunching over the book all that time. I unearthed a pint of chocolate chunk ice cream from where I’d hidden it behind the frozen pizzas and snack foods, took a spoon from the drawer, and settled on the couch.

  After an hour of really bad television but really good ice cream, I
turned off the TV and stowed what little remained of the ice cream back behind the other frozen food. I wanted to go to bed, but Ashlee still hadn’t returned. I turned off the kitchen light, lay down on the couch, and pulled the throw blanket over me, wondering if this was how Mom felt when Ashlee and I were out on dates as teenagers.

  I’d barely closed my eyes when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been until a wave of relief washed over me. A moment later, Ashlee unlocked the front door and came inside. She flipped on the light, and I sat up on the couch.

  She gave a little start. “Geez, Dana, scare me half to death, why don’t you.”

  “You’re awfully cranky. Bad date?”

  “It was okay. Only, Ryan is a vegetarian.” When I didn’t respond, she said, “He doesn’t eat meat.” She flopped down in a kitchen chair and kicked off her heels. The shoes did a cartwheel and came to rest in the middle of the kitchen floor, where they would no doubt remain until I moved them in the morning.

  I left the couch and came over to sit down across from her. “I know what vegetarian means. Why is that a problem?”

  “I’ve never dated a guy who eats healthier than me. I mean, the whole time I was eating my burger, he was looking at me like I was chewing a mouthful of kittens.”

  I laughed. “It couldn’t have been that bad, but if Ryan can’t handle dating a carnivore, he won’t call you again. Problem solved.” Which wouldn’t be a bad thing if he was involved in Birch’s murder. “Did you know Ryan lives on a commune?”

  “He mentioned that at dinner. Another strike against him.” Ashlee shuddered. “I can’t date anyone who doesn’t own a TV. What would we talk about?”

  I spread my arms wide. “World events? Your goals in life? Exciting things that happened at work that day?” I rested my arms on the table. “But who says he doesn’t own a TV? The commune has electricity, computers even. They’re not living in the Dark Ages, you know.”